


For Want of a Spike

by LookingForOctober



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LookingForOctober/pseuds/LookingForOctober
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Season 6, Spike is warned to stay away from Buffy by his future self.  It doesn't turn out well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Want of a Spike

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published on the livejournal community sb_fag_ends, in response to the prompt "What if Buffy and/or Spike were confronted by a demon masquerading as their future self (like Xander in Hell's Bells)?"

"What else would I want to pump you for?" Spike asked incredulously. "She'd never say that."

"Wait and see," his double, his future self said.

"And she'd never--"

"She'll hate herself and she'll hate you, mate. You'll want to kill her, but it's love and desire that'll drive you to hurt her more than you'd ever imagined you could.

"After that you'll want to change. You'll want to be more than what you are...and you'll fail. Love won't take you through, so you'll hate her more. And then you'll sodding kill her."

"The bitch--"

Future Spike continued as if he didn't even hear the interjection. "And then there will be nothing left."

"But at least--"

"There is no bloody at least," future Spike snapped. His eyes were bloodshot. "I'm living in hell. Don't join me."

 

She said it. 

And he kissed her. Even after that line, word for word, he didn't believe she'd really do it, but she did.

So he stayed away. Moved to a different cemetery, even, so she wouldn't know where to find him and come stare at him with her sad eyes. If he saw her, fate would catch up with them. He'd always wanted to kill the bloody bitch, but he'd never realized how much he wanted her to live. That was all that sustained him, day after lonely day.

He should have left town, but he couldn't. He waited in limbo, until one night he saw her outside a cemetery, fighting a couple of vamps. And losing.

He descended on the vamps like the wrath of the devil, killed them in five seconds flat, and then turned to the Slayer.

"Spike," she said. Her voice was flat and dull. "I thought you left."

"No," he said. What the bloody hell could he say?

"I was glad," she said. She didn't mean it.

He wanted to shake her. He wanted to press his lips into hers and force that deadness out of her eyes. He wanted to--

He didn't.

 

The next time he saw her, she looked even worse.

"Do you ever eat?" he asked. "And what the hell is that oily smell? It's--"

The look on her face stopped him. "--coming from over there. Buffy, love..."

"Don't call me love," she said. He heard the opposite, and moved closer. "I'm not..." But she didn't even have the energy to complete that sentence.

"You're not bloody dead, so stop acting like it," Spike said.

"I was better off dead," she said.

"Don't say that," Spike snapped. She didn't react. What the hell was she waiting for? Where was Buffy? This was like her ghost. Opaque body, but he could see right through her soul.

"Wake up, Slayer," he growled. She looked at him blankly. 

"Killed any evil lately?" he tried.

She looked down. "I tried to kill my friends, my sister, last week."

His mouth dropped open. She waited, neither patient or impatient, until he found one word. "Why?"

She shook her head. "I thought they weren't real. But guess how much they hate me now? Zero. Zero much."

"Some friends they are," Spike muttered. "Bit empty, that, isn't it? If not hating you's the best they can give you--"

He didn't see it coming until he was flying back against the wall. "Don't talk about my friends."

"That's more like it," he said, on his feet in an instant and ready for a fight. He could take her, easy, and then he'd--

Then he'd bloody kill her.

She was looking at him, and there was an expression on her face. It was the expression he imagined someone standing on a high bridge might wear as they looked at the fall.

It'd be easy. God, so easy.

"You want to know what I think?" he said. "You're pathetic."

She glared hard enough that he felt prickles along his back when he turned and left. But she let him go. He wished she hadn't.

 

When he found her in an alley blissed out on the latest designer drugs, he decided his future self was an idiot. Fail, would he? When he had _this_ to fight against?

He picked her up gently, and she nuzzled against him.

"Shh, love, it's going to be okay," he said.

"Spike," she said. Her voice was slurred.

"I'm not going to let you do this to yourself, love," he said.

"You left. You don't love me. No one loves me. Not even evil vampires. I hate you."

"I don't care if you hate me forever."

"I hate you." She punched him, completely ineffectually. He held her tighter.

"Hate all you want, you're going to live." His lips tightened into a grim line. "You're gonna live if I have to kill you."


End file.
